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- [00:00]
David Cummings
SA.
- [00:32]
Bill
Foreign.
- [00:37]
Chet
Sleepless Listeners and welcome to Sleepless Decompositions Volume 21. I'm your host, David Cummings. We're excited to launch season 23 next weekend. Remember to save some fireworks to shoot them off to celebrate. And with the new season beginning next weekend, you'll have until the end of Day on July 3rd to join the Sleepless Sanctuary's Sleepless Tier to hear all of Season 22. Starting on July 4, anyone joining the sleepless $5 a month tier will only have access to Season 23 content when it comes out. Anyone with a Sanctuary level membership won't be affected by this at all. And if you're currently a Sleepless Tier member, you will continue on with season 23 with no interruption to your past content. Now on this volume of Sleepless Decompositions, we have three tales which will hurt you, maybe not actually cause you physical pain, because we have yet to invent and market our own brand of earbuds which will send a hot needle into your eardrums to simulate physical pain when it occurs in one of our stories. But we're working on it, so we're limited to the mere power of suggestion, which can be quite intense. These tales will introduce you to people who have to deal with the tortuous physical pain they experience or perhaps cause others to to experience. Now, sleepless friends, we're not clowning around on this episode. We want you to feel the love in this one. And we mean that like they do in that old song by Nazareth when they told us love hurts. So brace yourself for these Sleepless decompositions. In our first tale, we enter a new age. I mean, we meet some friends who decide to break into a new age shop. Crystals, tarot cards, witchy Wiccan stuff. You know the kind of place. But who would break into a shop like that? Well, as we'll learn in this tale shared with us by author Michael Ward, the gang is after a special little figure they sell. One said to have magical powers. Now it's up to them to discover if that's true. Performing this tale are Dan Zapula, Jessie Cornett, Nicole Goodnight and Matthew Bradford. So save up your money and buy it instead of stealing. The shimmering statue.
- [03:34]
Bill
Is not my real name. I'm changing the names for others privacy too. I'll tell you why I can't sleep. You'll find this a bit strange, but I swear it's all true. I'm friends with a guy, call him Bill. I worked with him at the Crab House back in the day. We were on the same shift Together most weeks. That's kinda how we started hanging out. So Bill is friends with this other guy, Tony. We go to Tony's house. Tony also has a girlfriend. We'll call Deb, me and Bill. We're knocking back some beers with Tony and Deb at Tony's place. He's got a row home with a concrete backyard in Baltimore County. I guess the place name is okay to say, but it's facing the alley or whatever. We either drink there or in the basement when a game is. So we're there and we're talking about tarot and how Deb's been reading people their cards and she wants to go buy some new ones. I used to play with tarot when I was younger, but no big deal. We're crushing it when Tony starts talking about the New Age store having a back room for weekly meetings. The Open Pagan discussion group. They've got Wiccans and voodoo practitioners and Norse mythology people. They all go there there for their group. Tony's a cool guy, but he shoplifts a lot. He's always got magic, the gathering cards he pockets or candy or some bullshit, whatever. Tony tells us about this one thing they have under the glass counter there, and he wants it. It's a figure like a little statue. It's got a little card about the history standing up next to it. It's not for sale, he says. It's just for show. And it we go check it out, we ride up there in Tony's car. He's got a Dodge Charger. Remember that for later. The New Age store smells strongly of incense. On the left as we enter is the glass counter with items inside and a cash register on top. On the right is a pair of bookshelves, one displaying tarot cards in various styles, the other with a display of stuffed animal toy cats with wings and glittery unicorns. Ahead is a dollar a pound book bin. Some shelves on the left are stacked with jars of loose dry herbs for rituals. And in the middle are more books. There's an open door to a mostly empty back room with a table and some metal folding chairs. I check out the statue when we get there. It's this little black ST figurine, like 4 or 5 inches tall and shaped like a tentacle monster. The color is some kind of shimmering black, but with a greenish sheen, if that makes any sense. We talk to the lady behind the counter and the guy who owns the shop comes over and tells us he's just borrowing the statue. He's holding it until the owner Gets back from the Amazon. Then they're taking it to a museum to put it on a showcase. Cool. Except Tony gets this look in his eyes. Especially when the owner tells us the legend and we're like, oh, it's a supposedly cursed statue. It makes people immune to death or harm, but it also brings their doom. Tony proposes later, over beers, that we do a heist. He says he can unlock the shop's back door with a shim and we can steal the statue for laugh is how he puts it. I'm hesitant. Bill wants to go through with it. He thinks it'll be fun. Deb does whatever Tony does. I eventually relent. Now, to be clear here, I'm an idiot. We're all idiots. We do what Tony wants. He's this kind of electric personality. We meet back up that night around 10. I'm wearing black jeans and a black hood hoodie. My shoes are brown. Bill wears green army camouflage. Deb and Tony, they're also dressed in black. I've done a lot of 2020 hindsight thinking and there are about a billion different ways this could have ended before it started. But there we are. We walk to the shopping center and stick to the backs of the buildings. The new age store is on the end of a row of shops so we easily slip right up to. Nobody is even around. It's going on midnight. One thing Tony knows for sure, he says, is that the new age place has all fake cameras. He's scoped it out before and has pocketed a few small things to test it. When we come up to the metal door at the back of the store, he pulls out a little brass tool, like a little J shaped baby trumpet. He sticks it between the gap of the door, lines it up with the lock, turns the knob on the tool. The door pops right open. Genius. In for a penny, in for a pound. We go inside. Tony produces a knife and holds it out in front of him. That should have been a red flag. We Scooby Doo it on into the store and straight to the front case. From the cashier's side, it's not even locked. The door just slides right open. The register is hanging open and empty. Tony tells Bill to get the statue. He does it. No alarm goes off. Okay, so far so good. This is when it goes to shit. We're skulking into the back room again on our way out when out steps the shop owner and he's pretty pissed. We bolt. Bill's got the statue, Tony's got his knife out. I run Deb Runs. As I'm stepping out of the store, I see Tony is right up in front of the owner. And then a moment later, he's outside with us. Book it. So apparently Bill stumbles hard at the tree line. But nobody notices, and Bill isn't phased. Listen. We're at Tony's basement and Bill hands over Tony's statue. As soon as he does, his leg buckles under him and he twists his ankle. I'm telling you, he was fine up until that moment. After pausing for a beat, Tony says he's going to try something. Then he uses the tip of his knife to prick his palm. Nothing happens. No blood. Then he passes the statue to Deb. Immediately his open palm oozes out some blood, which he quickly presses to his mouth. Hey, Debbie, let me cut you. Tony proceeds to jab and faint at her threateningly with his knife.
- [11:32]
Jeremiah
No.
- [11:32]
Dr. Ellen Grant
No, Tony, stop. I'm not kidding, Tony.
- [11:36]
Bill
She is backing up.
- [11:38]
Jeremiah
No, you asshole.
- [11:39]
Bill
Here, take your stupid thing back. Here, I. I don't want it. I will. Tony takes back the statue, looking pissed off at being called an asshole. Time passes. It's a while later and we're all a little drunk. Well, Tony's very drunk. He's left the basement and come back by this time. And he's keeping something in his hoodie's front pocket. Let's play Russian roulette. Bill chuffs.
- [12:12]
Herman Hicks
Yeah, right.
- [12:15]
Bill
But then Tony pulls from his kangaroo pocket a pistol. It's a revolver. The temperature in the room immediately drops and my heart skips a beat.
- [12:27]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Oh, Jesus, Tony, not that thing again.
- [12:30]
Bill
We're all feeling the same dread. See, Tony has this problem with anger management. It's not entirely out of character for him to pull a gun out of nowhere. And it's especially like him to tease us with it. We're playing. No, Tony, no. Bill starts to object, but Tony stares him down and he looks away. The game is we have to hold the statue and then take a turn firing the gun at our head. Tony, with the statue in hand, immediately turns the gun on himself and pulls the trigger. The gun dry fires and makes a loud click as the cylinder revolves. Then it's my turn. I take the statue. The polished sheen is smooth and it feels warm in my hand. I'm holding my breath. I touch the muzzle of the pistol to my right temple. I don't want to die. I realize he never showed us if the gun only has one bullet. I exhale slowly and squeeze the trigger. The loud click next to my ear is the scariest sound I'VE ever heard in my life. I breathe again and pass the gun and statue to Bill. No.
- [13:56]
Herman Hicks
I want it to be Debbie's turn.
- [13:59]
Bill
Tony knows she hates being called Debbie. Bill hesitates.
- [14:05]
Chet
Do it.
- [14:06]
Bill
Cowed, Bill pushes the gun and statue into Deb's reluctant hands. Tony, no. He glowers darkly, daring her defiance. Tony, I'm scared.
- [14:20]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Please Tony.
- [14:21]
Bill
Come on Tony. It's not her turn, I say, trying awkwardly to help debate. Who am I kidding? It's not a great plan. Deb gives the things over to Bill. Bill's eyes go wide, looking hunted. He takes the statue. He looks over to Tony for a reaction. Yeah, okay. Bill is trembling. He takes the gun. He points it at his temple. The gun dry fires in his hand. He blanches. He sets both items down on the floor like they're too hot to touch. Deb makes no move to pick them up.
- [15:07]
Jeremiah
I don't want to play.
- [15:09]
Bill
Oh, you're playing deadbe he put the inflection on that second syllable of her name, really driving his point home. She dare not defy him again, he was saying. Tony is staring daggers at her as she picks up the pistol.
- [15:30]
Chet
Pick up the statue, Debbie, or I'll.
- [15:33]
Herman Hicks
Shove it down your throat.
- [15:35]
Bill
She's crying now.
- [15:37]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Please, please no.
- [15:40]
Herman Hicks
It's your turn. Take the statue.
- [15:44]
Bill
I demand that you pick it up. He raises the gun sharply, hyperextending, his elbow aiming at her face. Defeated, silently sobbing through her tears. She reaches down slowly and picks up the statue. The percussive explosion from the muzzle of the gun makes us all jump back. Except for Tony. His eyes are blazing. The rictus across his face neither grimace nor grin. Cold as the dead. Seemingly in slow motion, my adrenaline pumping, I watch the bullet exit the gun. I watch it fly the distance to Deb. I watch it enter her face. God in heaven. I see it go into her face. Time kicks back in. My ears are ringing. My heart is palpitating. I am shocked. She absorbed the bullet. Is that what I saw? She did it. I don't know how but she did it. She absorbed the bullet into her face and then sat there with a horrified excitement expression but remained completely uninjured. Everything is silent for just a moment. Tony is the first to move. He hoots. He's excited. He laughs maniacally. Bill looks pale, like he might be sick. Deb is wide eyed, frozen now.
- [17:28]
Herman Hicks
Whatever you do, don't put the statue down. Ever.
- [17:35]
Bill
She doesn't know how to react. I want to go home. Tony gathers Deb into his smiling embrace and suddenly sounds like a different man, like a jolly uncle. He consoles her, gently jokes with her, and generally tries to cheer her up. He assures her that she'll be fine if she just hangs on to the statue, and he doesn't even want it anyway. She can keep it. She's freaked out, but okay. He sends her home and we all break for the night. I go home and get some rest. I have to sleep off all this excitement. So it's over for the night. So we think. What I find out later is that during the night, Tony snuck into her house, wiped all his prints off the gun and wore gloves and put the gun in her father's hand. Then he slipped into her room while she slept and stole the statue. Her face and head were obliterated and she would have to have a closed casket at her feet. Funeral her father swore up and down his innocence, but he went down hard with the law elsewhere. The shop owner of the New Age store was also dead on the floor. The police didn't connect the two murders. Bill and I had no idea of this the next morning. When we met up at Tony's again the next day, he kept a straight face and seemed as shocked as we were when we heard the news. She must have dropped the statue, he says. Where's the statue now? We wonder. He has no idea. It's not until weeks later, after the funeral and everything had calmed back down, that we saw him with the statue again. I was astonished. He was nonchalant. This is at his place again. We're in his domain. He's got control of the statue and the room. I accuse him. He shrugs. I threaten to call the cops.
- [19:52]
Chet
Go ahead.
- [19:54]
Bill
It turns quickly into an argument. He storms out. I storm after him. Bill stays put, hands up, palms forward, and declaring his himself out of it. Tony gets into his Dodge Charger. I stomp to the passenger side and get in. I cross my arms and try to look mean and serious. He looks bored and waves me away with the back of his hand. He shrugs. He starts the car and drives. He gets onto the open road and starts to accelerate. He's going fast and getting faster. Trees and buildings fly past to the left and right of us. I glare at him and reach to buckle my seatbelt. He looks smug and deliberately doesn't buckle in. He's counting on the statue saving him. If we crash, we're passing other cars fast. We're too fast. I snake my hand out to swipe the statue out of his grasp. He pulls it away and hits me in the nose with his Elbow. Now he's talking. Now he's cursing me. We're both shouting as he jerks the wheel sharply to the right and we hurtle down a side street. We're passing pedestrians, parked cars, houses and a lady walking her dog. A toddler on a train tricycle. His father guiding him with his hand on the child's back. I'm telling him to stop. I'm pretty scared and I want to get out of the car.
- [21:35]
Chet
You mark.
- [21:37]
Bill
He yanks the steering wheel to the left, slaloms a lamp post and takes us up a smaller street. I know where we are. We're on a dead end road. We've got maybe a mile before the road runs out and after that it's nothing but trees. He's on the accelerator hard. We're going to die. I look at the statue. I grab for it. He yanks it away. I'm scrabbling across him. He's jerking the wheel and weaving down the road. Here it comes, the dead end. A short guard rail and a rat red sign are all that's between us and deadly trees. I'm grabbing. He's taking us up the curb. He's going to skirt the guardrail and aim us at a tree. He's laughing like a maniac. I'm desperate and panicking. I grab his head and pull it near. Not even trying to hurt him, just pulling his arm with that statue closer so I can grab it. Treat impact in five, four, three. I grab it. My fingers curl around the statue. I feel the sweat on his hand, his tight fist losing its grip on the statue. Two. I have it. One. The world explodes. It's minutes later. I've woken up from an apparent blackout. The airbags are out and deflated. The turn signal is click, click, clicking. Tony is dead or dying. Even with the airbag, he'd still slammed so hard he'd been launched at the window. His head and face are a bloody mess. He's not responding when I say his name. I unbuckle. The statue is in my hand. I wrestled the door open. I get up and out of the car. I'm walking and I'm fine. I'm completely okay. I clutch the statue close. I'm a block or two down the road before sirens come screaming past on their way to Tony's car and his shattered body. I get home. I clutch the statue. I hold it tight while I take a shower. I dare not let it go. If. If the crash would have killed me. It'll catch up as soon as I let go of the statue Statue. I'm writing this with one hand. My left hand is holding the statue and wrapped in duct tape. I'm telling you what happened today and I can't risk ever dropping the statue. It's my whole life now and I don't dare fall asleep.
- [25:15]
Chet
We'll keep you holding on to us after this quick word from our sponsors. For ad free extended horror content, go to sleepless.thenosleeppodcast.com you don't need a statue to protect your beloved cat from any harm. You can monitor your cat's health with Pretty Litter. It's the best litter and a total game changer. Kelly and I have a good friend who we recently turned on to Pretty Litter. She tells us how much she and her cats love it. Pretty Litter helps monitor your cat's health, detecting abnormalities in your cat's urine by testing acidity and alkalinity level and showing the visible presence of blood. Pretty Litter ships right to our friend's door. It's non toxic, pet safe and household friendly. Plus it's low dust, controls odors and lasts for up to one month. So not only do we love Pretty Litter, we're getting our friends loving it too. Why not join us right now? Save 20% on your first order and get a free cat toy at PrettyLitter.com that's Pretty Litter.com no sleep to save 20% on your first order AND get a free cat toy, that's PrettyLitter.com no sleep Pretty Litter cannot detect every feline health issue or prevent or diagnose diseases. A diagnosis can only come from a licensed veterinarian. Terms and conditions apply. See site for details. Hey, let's talk about Bombo. Summer is here and we're all chasing something. A break, a goal, a vibe. Let's not let bad socks and blisters ruin it. Bombas make socks and now slides and seamless essentials that keep up with whatever your summer looks like, whether you're running a marathon or just a few errands. They don't stop at socks either. They've got fresh white tees you barely have to break in, waterproof slides for the beach, backyard and everywhere in between, and buttery soft sweat wicking underwear that feels barely there. Kelly and I wear our Bombas socks all the time. They really are a step above other socks. We've stopped buying cheap socks that last weeks in order to have long lasting, super comfy socks that look and feel great. Check out Bombas and treat yourself and your feet to the best. Head over to bombas.com no sleep and use code no sleep for 20 off your first purchase. That's B O M B A S.com no sleep code no sleep at checkout. Thanks for the fantastic sogs, Bombas. Now back to the horror. We've got some work to do with dad. Ah, it's such a wholesome image. A father spending time with his son, teaching him the skills he'll need to do well in life. And when the son shows great acumen at a certain task, dad wants to support it. But in this tale shared with us by author Anthony Neal Smith, the skills this family are best at wouldn't be considered quite that wholesome. I join Joel from Let's Read, Mike Delgadio and Matthew Bradford in performing this tale. So enjoy some father son time as you spend Sundays in the workshop with dad.
- [29:00]
David Cummings
Jeremiah steadied the nail between thumb and finger, swore under his breath he wouldn't screw up this time. Set the hammer on top. A couple of practice arcs. He held his tongue. Right. One, two, three. Perfect. It sunk right in like that.
- [29:20]
Chet
Dad.
- [29:22]
David Cummings
Chet took a moment to regain his composure.
- [29:30]
Bill
Yeah. Yes, I'm. You got it.
- [29:39]
David Cummings
The nail had driven through Chet's kneecap patella, splitting it in two. Not cleanly. Bone shards and splinters around the wound. But the sound of the cracking bone was loud enough for both to hear Sunday evening in Chet's workshop out in the yard where he'd built the kitchen table and chairs, the coffee table, the TV hutch, and a corner case to display Magnolia's treasured tea sets. It had become a tradition bringing his son out here to teach him about working with tools, helping him with crafts. He made a skateboard and also a birdhouse. This evening. On Jeremiah's first attempt, he flinched and slammed into the meat of Chet's thigh. It was pathetic. Second attempt. The nail pierced the skin but skidded off the bone and lodged in the tendon. The boy was getting discouraged. Fuck. He'd paced the garage, pounding his head on both sides with latexed fists.
- [30:39]
Chet
So stupid.
- [30:45]
Bill
Hey, Jerry.
- [30:47]
David Cummings
Jerry.
- [30:48]
Bill
Hey, hey, hey. Calm down now, you hear me? Just take a few deep breaths and listen.
- [31:05]
David Cummings
Chet explained. You don't have to wail at the nail in one go. As long as the first hit is solid enough, confident enough, the nail would penetrate, take hold, and the next two would drive it in. Jeremiah followed his dad's advice. And there it was. A ruined knee. A proud moment for Chet, his son, only 16, Shaggy haired in a hoodie and an attack on Titan anime T shirt was Taking initiative. Once this was all over, the boy would do okay for himself, out in the world without his parents. It was always going to come down to this. But Chet hadn't known the day nor the hour that he would wake up to find his wife Magnolia stabbed what must have been a hundred times in the running shower a la psycho, which Chet first showed Jerry when he was 11. He had walked down the hall to his stepdaughter's room. Room Jerry's older half sister, home for the weekend from college. Knocked, of course. He always knocked with no answer. He'd tried the knob and found Colleen mutilated as only a psychopathic 16 year old boy could do. Nothing left to the imagination. A hat tip to one of the original serial killers Chet had introduced to his boy in his impressionable years. Jack the Ripper. He'd had no time to grieve, no time to admire the skill of Jerry's recreation. Exactly like the photo. Chet had to admit he'd often imagined what Colleen's insides were like, her heart in his hand. But he had rules, mental blocks, self hypnosis, whatever it had taken to shut down the worm in his brain, threatening to knock down the whole house of cards. Jerry didn't have the same stakes at play. He was as free as Chet used to be before Iraq. No time. Because the sound of the baseball bat whooshing before impact knocked Chet to the ground. Before he could make sense of it and get to his feet, someone wrenched his jaw open and poured a sickly sweet juice down his throat. It was either swallow or choke.
- [33:09]
Chet
Ketamine.
- [33:10]
David Cummings
Excellent choice. He woke in the workshop fastened to a lawn chair. Jerry made quick work of the other knee. Beautifully. Chet took in the kid's smell as he knelt before the chair he'd been zip tied and duct taped to, chained to the riding lawnmower in case Chet thought about making a run for had crossed his mind, as Jerry expected it to. What kind of father mentor could Chet be if he bolted? He kept his seat and shut his mouth. Weird. Something he'd never thought of before becoming a stepfather. Then a father was how the kids in a father's life, the one he's sworn to protect, each have a different smell, some sort of primal instinct switching on the moment Jerry was born or the day of his wedding to Magnolia Colleen, a first grader. Then how to explain the boy's like a snow day here in North Minnesota, his sister's like cinnamon raisin oatmeal. Nothing like the fear sweat of the prisoners he'd interrogated in those desert black sites, the piss and shit fumes bolder every day. The subject was left bound, gagged, assaulted by death metal music doused with freezing and scalding water. Told repeatedly his wife and children and mother had been raped and murdered already, and much more. Chet was on the verge of passing out when Jerry took a pair of massive garden shears and sliced off three fingers on his dad's right hand. Or tried to. It took four tries. The blades weren't sharp enough.
- [34:50]
Bill
All right, now, listen, Jeremiah, listen to me. I know you've put a lot of.
- [34:58]
Chet
Faith in me not to scream.
- [35:01]
Bill
That's a big risk. A real big risk.
- [35:08]
David Cummings
The boy scrunched his eyebrows. Chet looked down at his index finger dangling. Didn't realize Jerry had snipped it, too. You think.
- [35:19]
Bill
I'm not the same man I was in the Army?
- [35:23]
David Cummings
I'm older.
- [35:24]
Bill
I'm softer. My will is weaker. Look, if I were you, I. I'd.
- [35:32]
Chet
Slap some tape over my mouth.
- [35:35]
Bill
You know how nosy the neighbors are, Bob.
- [35:38]
David Cummings
I mean, how will you talk to me then?
- [35:40]
Chet
Tell me what I'm doing wrong?
- [35:45]
Bill
You do, Jerry. You're doing great, son. Really, really great. One thing, though. Make sure your tools are sharp. Listen, as sharp as can be. Because sometimes your goal isn't only to inflict pain, right? But to induce shock.
- [36:14]
Chet
Try to.
- [36:17]
Bill
Try to imagine it from their point of view. You know, them seeing their fingers gone, the pain not yet reaching their brain. See what I mean? Okay. Yeah. Yeah, I get it. Okay, good.
- [36:41]
David Cummings
Okay.
- [36:41]
Chet
Now let's.
- [36:42]
Bill
Let's try it again with my other hand. But go get the whetstone and the oil. You still want the duct tape? We'll play it by ear. How about.
- [37:07]
David Cummings
Jerry grinned and set off to sharpen the shears. Chet watching warmly, remembering his first clues to Jerry's utter lack of empathy when he was a young boy caught torturing the dog with a stun gun he'd taken from his mom's purse. Then the neighbor's cat, one by one, disappeared. The couple next door, Neil and Fran, called a meeting for everyone on the street, goaded everyone into starting a neighborhood watch. Great. Just what Chet needed. Amateurs with flashlights and handguns peeking into his backyard all hours of the night. He didn't even like cats. A couple of days after, Chet found Jerry behind the workshop with the same set of shears he was using this evening. A gray cat bleeding out, three legs, already amputated. When his dad shouted, Jerry looked up, his eyes flat and dead.
- [37:58]
Chet
Go to your room.
- [38:00]
David Cummings
But Pop Now Jerry had set the shears down carefully. He dumped the exhaust like it was garbage. He moped across the yard as if daring Chet to shout at him again. Once he was inside, his father disposed of the cat quickly, humanely. He'd found Jeremiah in his room, smashing the robot insect toys he'd begged for last Christmas. He was lining up sharp pieces of plastic on his study desk, saving them for who knew what. Chet watched from the doorway for a while, well, remembering Magnolia's whispered fear. Jerry's not normal. The robotic way he spoke to her and his sister? Creepy. Or Colleen's fear at being asked to babysit her brother when she was old enough and no amount of money would change her mind. Was it genetic? Had he passed along his own sickness, Evil incarnate, etched into his DNA? He was certain. As certain as he could be. Jerry hadn't found his hidden stash of souvenirs from the war or the other stash from when he'd returned home, unable to power down the itch.
- [39:09]
Bill
Jer, come here. I want to show you something. Come on.
- [39:13]
David Cummings
The right time. Either show him or let him keep wreaking havoc through the neighborhood, his school, and, heaven forbid, his own family. Chet had taken Jeremiah out to this very workshop, sat him down and pulled out the first picture album. The page is sticky, discolored with a smell. Polaroids. Get over the years. He handed the book to Jeremiah.
- [39:38]
Bill
Go ahead, open it.
- [39:40]
David Cummings
Starting with page one. It was full of photos from his time in Iraq. Him and his partner. His blood brother, really. Rod Grood. Together they'd broken hundreds of men, dozens of women, and even several children, too. Terrorists, every one of them. They all confessed. Even if it took their dying breaths to do it. That was the problem. They'd say anything, guilty or not, if Chet and Rod would. For the love of God, please stop. By the time the torture twins figured this out, it was too late. They were hooked. They made their questions confusing, contradictory, surreal. Ridiculous. Enough their subject wouldn't even know what he was supposedly guilty of. Jeremiah flipped pages with wide eyes before and after.
- [40:31]
Chet
See, it was my job, son, to.
- [40:32]
Bill
Keep this country safe by making these.
- [40:35]
David Cummings
Sons of own up to all their plans for America.
- [40:39]
Chet
Here, wait. Look. See him?
- [40:42]
Bill
Oh, man. We called him Steel Nips because we.
- [40:45]
David Cummings
Thought for sure that a battery and.
- [40:47]
Chet
Some clamps was all it would take to break him. Jesus Christ, though. Tough fucking nut. Here, look. Flip the page. See? It took a lot more. Oh, man.
- [40:59]
Bill
Waterboarding a man whose nose we cut off.
- [41:02]
David Cummings
He sighed. Sweet memories. More and more pages, Chet told Jeremiah how he'd started. Much like him, A young guy fascinated with making animals hurt. Wondering what they were like inside. Wondering if their fear was reflex, based on pain alone or mental, like terror, like the sublime. When Chet's daddy, rest his rotten soul, caught Chet dismembering a rabbit alive. He whooped the fear of the devil into his son's ass. Sent him off to the shrinks. Forced him into an alternative school where he'd learned from the other students better ways not to get caught. Still, he got caught again. Caught him with his unconscious prom date. The cops thought that they were saving her from date rape. If they only knew. Chet finished his GED in prison and then finished his time with good behavior and then found a buddy from alternative school to help him score perfect forgeries. He changed his name and attempted to blend into the background. It was only one day after nine. Eleven. The army came calling, knocked on his door. They'd seen right through the phony name and whatnot, had been keeping a close eye on him. They needed a man like Chet. Quite a few men like him to help keep our country strong. Was he willing? If so, he'd be rewarded handsomely. To be honest, Chet would have done it for free. Jeremiah kept flipping. The ferocity of the torture rising with each new victim, the posing of the bodies, the smiles on the face of whichever one was crouching next to the dead. Elcasso, their little twist on Al Qaeda. I was in the desert for six years. Six wonderful years. Then one day they said our jobs were done and we were flown home to the States with a bonus and. And a gag order.
- [42:55]
Chet
Whenever telling anyone, wife, parent, child, even pet, you know what we done for the war.
- [43:03]
David Cummings
Jeremiah, only nine at the time, had peered up those beady little dead eyes of his.
- [43:09]
Chet
How did it feel? You know what coming home?
- [43:13]
Bill
No. Entail Gating them?
- [43:16]
Chet
Interrogating, you mean.
- [43:18]
David Cummings
Interrogating? Well, the cries, the begging. Those moments he could tell his subject had given up the will to live.
- [43:27]
Bill
I bet it feels close to what you feel killing a cat. I wasn't going to kill it.
- [43:33]
David Cummings
Son, please.
- [43:34]
Chet
Come on. Lie to your mother, not to me.
- [43:36]
David Cummings
I know you've killed a lot of cats in this neighborhood, but look, no more, though, huh?
- [43:41]
Bill
I'm going to teach you how to make it work, how to grow into what you're becoming.
- [43:47]
David Cummings
And he didn't mean like some Dexter bullshit when the father told his psychopathic son to only kill bad people. What a joke. Like having Wonder Bread and water for the rest of your dinners. Once Chet had married, become Colleen's stepfather. He tried hard, really tried very hard, to keep the itch deep, hidden away. The good old days to reminisce on long winter nights. But a snow blower. Put up Christmas lights, raked leaves, bought a grill, made some excellent steaks and pork chops, subscribed to Netflix and binged a lot of series on the couch each night with Magnolia. Pretended he hated Colleen's high school boyfriend. But his fucking itch. Then Jerry was born, and with him came the sleepless nights, the exhaustion, the complete focus on making sure this tiny, fragile life was set for the long run. But his fucking itch. Chet couldn't stand it. He scratched. Damn right, he scratched. He took the hunt out of town. Obviously shit where you eat, especially in this neighborhood. You might find Neil or Fran peeking out their curtains, absolutely sure that you were up to naughtiness. Instead, he hunted in Duluth, an hour to the east, hunted downtown. The lake was the mall, the subdivisions on top of the hill. He wanted someone who wouldn't be missed for a while. Single, young, didn't call mom enough. Found him. And Ian. College student, B minus average. No girl or boyfriend known to stay out all hours, kept to himself. Chet discovered all of these things by bumming a cigarette and trying some cold reading to dig out details. Offered him a ride. What line had he used? Dude, if you like manga, you ought to see my collection. Of course, there was no collection. Once in the workshop, Chet forced the gas on him. Nitrous until he was ragdoll. Not much time. Worried Magnolia might wake and come check on him. Not likely with the dose he gave her. Or Neil would butt his nosy ass into it. Swear the guy thought that he was Columbo. Chet got him on the workbench and took him apart. It wasn't as thrilling as the fear and screams of the terrorists, the God's wrath, punishments he and Grood devised. It was fine. It calmed the itch. Several hours later, he hauled Ian's many pieces in trash bags amongst sawdust, wood scraps, used sandpaper and varnish, stained paper towels. Drove over to the north shore and sank those bags to the bottom of Lake Superior. As good as a bottomless pit. Home well before the roofies wore off. His wife and kids. Before sunrise. He was beat and fell into a dreamy sleep. He'd dropped 10 more bodies into Superior since then. Jerry had helped with the last three. Chet had started by teaching the boy to use tools for woodwork. How to make something beautiful from dead trees, saw lathe, hammer, sander screwdriver, varnish, glue, and many more. He showed Jerry his more recent photo album. The people from Duluth, Two Harbors, Hermantown, quietly dismembered in Chet's workshop, then sunk into the dark, freezing waters of Gitchigumi. Birdhouse skateboard coat hooks for the mudroom plant stand. Chet took Jeremiah on a drive to Duluth, explained. All right, so look, you can't pick.
- [47:24]
Chet
Someone you have a connection to.
- [47:26]
David Cummings
All right? So don't choose the same type of person, the same appearance, or they're going to put it together. Think strategically. The boy chose a frumpy older woman, maybe reminded him of a teacher. Chet asked why, and Jerry shrugged.
- [47:42]
Bill
What's old blood like?
- [47:44]
David Cummings
Jerry played lost, asked her to help him find his dad's truck in the parking lot after her, a man who drove a Porsche suv. Both agreed anyone driving that abomination deserved what they got. The last a girl Jerry's age. Chet told him it was a bad idea, would draw too much attention. Then the look he gave Chet shut up her.
- [48:07]
Bill
I'm curious.
- [48:09]
David Cummings
Okay, son.
- [48:10]
Bill
Okay.
- [48:12]
David Cummings
Chet whipped his head towards the sound. Jerry coming back, working the blades now sharpened to a serious edge.
- [48:20]
Bill
Better pop.
- [48:26]
David Cummings
Sounds sharp. Chet grew weaker by the minute.
- [48:33]
Chet
You make sure take care of the details. You know, dot the cross, the. You know. Are you ready?
- [48:48]
David Cummings
Jerry stepped to Chet's left side, widened the shears around his left hand fingers. Chet shook his head.
- [48:56]
Chet
I need a minute, son. Come on. I said in a minute.
- [49:06]
David Cummings
Too loud. Jerry should have taped his mouth closed. For the first time since it began, Chet wondered if he had a chance to make it out alive. He wondered how many of his subjects, from Iraq to the Minnesota Northwoods, wondered the same thing. Was there any answer they could give? Any pleading or begging strong enough to get under their tormentors skin? Right. No one was that cruel, that cold. Right. Chet knew better. He wondered what would come next. Inject his eyeballs with bleach? Force him to drink rat poison? Drive an ice pick into his ear? Not quite far enough to kill him. The nitrous had made it all safer for his own itch. Yet Chet could tell that it hadn't been enough for Jerry like he had with the cats. The kid needed to see and hear the pain like his old man had overseas. It added something special and made the whole exercise meaningful. Jerry had slacked off his demeanor shy, small, still enthralled to his father. Not the lesson he wanted to impart.
- [50:21]
Bill
Son, come here.
- [50:26]
David Cummings
Jerry stepped closer. Chet stared him dead in the eyes.
- [50:31]
Chet
You just gonna let your subject Push you around.
- [50:34]
Bill
Come on.
- [50:34]
Chet
Take control. I asked for a minute. You shouldn't even give me 10 seconds.
- [50:46]
David Cummings
A grin on the boy's face. Yeah, I get it. Thanks, Pop. He opened the shears and positioned them for the left hand, fingers sharp enough to take them off in one shick. A shout from outside. Mother of shit. A flash, a bang. Jerry stood there, tall, with his wide eyes like he'd been zapped with a cattle producer. Another two flashbangs and his head recoiled, the last expression on his face questioning his dad. What happened? Jerry dropped like a stone, a heavy bag tossed right into Lake Superior, sinking down, down, down. In the doorway of the workshop stood Neil 2, handing a smoking pistol. His gaze switched from Jerry to Cherry Chet, taking in his bruises, lumps, nailed knees and fingers all over the floor.
- [51:45]
Chet
Jesus. My God, man. What was he trying to do?
- [51:51]
David Cummings
Chet's heart broke and he strained at the zip ties.
- [52:11]
Bill
Why did you do that, Neil?
- [52:15]
Chet
Why did you have to kill him? Why did you kill my son?
- [52:20]
David Cummings
Neil eased the pistol down.
- [52:23]
Chet
You're. You're. You're good now. You're good. I'll call for someone, get you some help.
- [52:30]
David Cummings
He hefted his phone, dialed, spoke to the dispatcher over the speaker instead of holding it to his ear. Chet stared at Jeremiah's body, the smell of a snow day already fading. So much blood leaking out of the wounds on his back and head. How he would have loved the sight. It was truly beautiful.
- [52:53]
Herman Hicks
Why?
- [52:59]
David Cummings
Neil held up a finger.
- [53:02]
Chet
The address. Yeah, the address is.
- [53:06]
David Cummings
Chet was itching all over now. He failed his son miserably. So it should be Chet dead on the floor. It should be Chet's blood spreading out, reflecting the blinking fluorescence. Chet peered at his neighbor strutting around, telling the dispatcher his half assed version of events.
- [53:25]
Chet
Oh yeah, he's lucky I heard him shout. The kid was about to chop his other fingers off his own dad.
- [53:34]
David Cummings
Blue and red lights strobed outside, the siren coming to a stop in the alley behind the house. Chet had no other choice but to play the victim, a real victim, and hope they didn't and find his hiding places. Another glance at the floor. Jerry's blood had made it to his slippers, absorbed into the fabric.
- [53:58]
Chet
Should be Neil's blood. And it will be.
- [54:05]
Herman Hicks
Soon enough.
- [54:30]
Chet
Hold on to your fingers. We've got a quick word from our sponsor. For AD free extended horror content, go to Sleepless, the no Sleep podcast. You know what doesn't belong in your epic summer plans? Getting burned by your old wireless bill while you're planning beach trips, barbecues and three day weekends, your wireless bill should be the last thing holding you back. With plans starting at 15 bucks a month, Mint Mobile gives you premium wireless service on the nation's largest 5G network. The coverage and speed you're used to, but way less money. So while your friends are sweating over data, overages and surprise charges, you'll be chillin' Literally and financially. Trust me, I know how good Mint Mobile is. I've seen the lower bills and heard how good the service is. You gotta try it. Say buh bye to your overpriced wireless plan's jaw dropping monthly bills and unexpected overages. Mint Mobile is here to rescue you with Premium Wireless Plan plan starting at 15 bucks a month. All plans come with high speed data and unlimited talk and text delivered on the nation's largest 5G network. So come on, ditch overpriced wireless and get three months of premium wireless service from Mint Mobile for 15 bucks a month. So this year, skip breaking a sweat and break in the bank. Get your summer savings and shop premium wireless plans@mint mobile.com that's mintmobile.com NSP upfront payment of $45 for a 3 month 5 gigabyte plan required equivalent to $15 a month new customer offer for first 3 months only, then full price plan options available, taxes and fees extra. See Mint Mobile for details. Now back to the horror. Get ready for a horn honking good time. In our final tale, we meet a man who needs help, and thankfully he's seeking professional help from a therapist. We all know how important that is these days, but in this tale shared with us by author Chris Panettiere, the therapist is struggling to help the man with his right rather peculiar problem. You see, his job is meant to bring happiness to others, but he has to deal with all that pain. Performing this tale are Aaron Lillis, Danielle McCrae, and Atticus Jackson. So there are many forms of help out there. Have you considered some play therapy?
- [57:25]
Jeremiah
Dr. Ellen Grant glanced up at the big clock on her office wall when the door opened. 2:59pm she knew it was him even before she saw his face. Something in the air. This was it. The big red shoe she'd been waiting to drop for over a year. The way the door pushed inward like it had been thrust open, then allowed to creak to a slow halt before an entrance was made. There was a showman's quality to it. He'd found her. His face appeared around the edge of the door.
- [58:14]
Herman Hicks
Hey Doc. Sorry I'm early.
- [58:19]
Jeremiah
The Clock's big hand moved straight up with a click.
- [58:26]
Herman Hicks
Well, I guess I'm right on time then.
- [58:30]
Jeremiah
He stepped inside and threw his arms out.
- [58:35]
Herman Hicks
55 minutes until I'm cured, Mr. Hicks. You thought I'd give up on therapy just because you changed your name and moved five states over? No way. And Doc, we've been together for 20 sessions. My father was Mr. Hicks. You could call me Herman.
- [58:59]
Jeremiah
She glanced at her phone. How quickly could she dial 91 1? He saw her thought process.
- [59:09]
Herman Hicks
I wouldn't, Doc.
- [59:12]
Jeremiah
Cold fear pressed into her extremities as her mind searched for a way to escape the situation. She could feel the blood draining from her face. She'd had problem patients before. That was the nature of psychiatry. They were all suffering for a not insignificant few of them. However, their issues bled across the line between doctor and patient. There'd been difficult cases she'd had to withdraw from or refer to other therapists. Harassment, even the occasional stalker. Something usually handled by the authorities. But only one patient had made her feel so unsafe, had been so adept at disappearing when the cops got involved that she literally run away. That was Herman Hicks.
- [60:10]
Herman Hicks
You look tense. I want this to work. I wouldn't miss my last session for the world.
- [60:20]
Jeremiah
Putting on her bravest face, trying to control the situation, Ellen rounded her desk toward a pair of chairs set out on a broad indigo rug.
- [60:32]
Dr. Ellen Grant
I've told you many times that cases like yours just aren't cured. It's a matter of. Of ongoing therapy and constant vigilance. It takes work.
- [60:46]
Herman Hicks
I have more confidence in you than that.
- [60:52]
Jeremiah
He sat into the chair on the left, the one he knew would be hers.
- [60:58]
Herman Hicks
You don't mind, do you?
- [61:01]
Jeremiah
She steeled herself.
- [61:04]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Not at all. Herman, sit wherever makes you the most comfortable.
- [61:09]
Jeremiah
He did and clasped his hands primly over crossed legs.
- [61:16]
Herman Hicks
Well, shall we begin?
- [61:19]
Jeremiah
He pointed.
- [61:21]
Herman Hicks
Clock's ticking.
- [61:24]
Jeremiah
Ellen grabbed her notebook and sat into the opposite chair.
- [61:31]
Dr. Ellen Grant
I'm not sure what there is for us to do.
- [61:34]
Herman Hicks
I researched you. Everyone said you were the best. And it was during our first visit that you said. You said that you were confident I could be helped.
- [61:52]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Your exact words helped, Herman, not cured.
- [61:59]
Herman Hicks
Ah. Well, in my case, cured is the only thing that will be helpful to me. I've lost my mojo.
- [62:08]
Dr. Ellen Grant
It's your choice to see it that way. Then. I never offered you a cure.
- [62:16]
Herman Hicks
Yeah, that's what you said in our last session before you ducked into witness protection.
- [62:23]
Dr. Ellen Grant
You said you were going to kill me if I didn't cure you by 21 sessions. Herman.
- [62:30]
Jeremiah
He glanced at the clock.
- [62:33]
Herman Hicks
49 minutes.
- [62:36]
Jeremiah
Ellen noticed her hands shaking and wrapped them around the file across her chest.
- [62:43]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Please don't do this. It's not going to help you.
- [62:50]
Jeremiah
He leaned forward.
- [62:52]
Herman Hicks
I have a job, but no one will hire me any longer. Not funny enough, they say. Too depressing, they say. Too edgy. Unstable.
- [63:10]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Well, you suffer from anxiety and depression.
- [63:16]
Jeremiah
And a whole host of other personality disorders. She didn't feel it beneficial to rattle off.
- [63:23]
Herman Hicks
47 minutes.
- [63:28]
Jeremiah
Standing up, she dropped the pad onto the ground.
- [63:32]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Stop that. I'm not going to cure you in 47 minutes. Why don't you just do what you came to do and get it over with?
- [63:43]
Herman Hicks
I made you a promise. 21 whole sessions. We've only just begun. I'm not doing anything until 55 after the hour.
- [63:57]
Dr. Ellen Grant
I think you just want to kill someone and maybe satisfy your pathology until you get the urge to do it again.
- [64:07]
Herman Hicks
That's not true at all.
- [64:10]
Jeremiah
Ellen asked a question she'd been too afraid to ask in prior sessions.
- [64:15]
Dr. Ellen Grant
How many?
- [64:17]
Herman Hicks
You'll have to be more specific.
- [64:21]
Dr. Ellen Grant
How many have you killed, Herman?
- [64:25]
Herman Hicks
How many what people? Psychiatrists. Clowns for high school.
- [64:33]
Jeremiah
Ellen didn't answer. He crossed his arms and made invisible notches in the air with his finger.
- [64:41]
Herman Hicks
Psychiatrists? Just the two. The ones I went to before I came to you. Made them the same deal. They weren't any good, though. You're way better.
- [64:57]
Dr. Ellen Grant
It's session 21 and you're not cured, as you put it. So? So why am I better?
- [65:07]
Herman Hicks
I don't know. I feel like there's something more to you than the others. A desire to push past conventions and solve problems. It's one of the reasons I've placed you in this particular circumstance.
- [65:25]
Dr. Ellen Grant
No. It's because you are textbook sadist.
- [65:32]
Herman Hicks
Sometimes unconventional solutions arise from the fire of the crucible. 41 minutes.
- [65:42]
Jeremiah
Ellen sat again and crossed her arms. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of being mounted to his cat.
- [65:52]
Herman Hicks
What? You're gonna do the radio silence thing.
- [65:57]
Dr. Ellen Grant
I can't imagine what I could do in 41 minutes to cure you as you desire. And even if I knew what to do, I doubt I could do it under duress.
- [66:12]
Herman Hicks
You have to try to help me. Pretty sure you took an O.
- [66:19]
Jeremiah
Ellen rolled her eyes and shook her head. Herman narrowed his glare and leaned back in his chair, seemingly fine to play along. They sat this way for some time. Eventually, Ellen checked the clock. A countdown to her death. 30, 23 minutes remained. Herman shifted. Maybe she was getting under his skin. She hoped so. He held his Mouth tight as a string, she smiled nihilistically, happy to frustrate his plan. Finally, he broke the quiet.
- [67:07]
Herman Hicks
I'm going to paint myself in your blood.
- [67:13]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Oh.
- [67:15]
Herman Hicks
Just like for birthday gigs. Red, rosy cheeks, a bright red nose. Slick my hair back with it.
- [67:27]
Jeremiah
His eyes shone with a pure light as he described his plans.
- [67:33]
Herman Hicks
My clowns Brown's name is Red, after all.
- [67:38]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Good for you.
- [67:40]
Jeremiah
But as she said it, her mind churned. There was something here, an avenue they'd not discussed during prior sessions. A note to be plucked.
- [67:54]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Tell me how you're going to do it.
- [67:58]
Herman Hicks
Do what?
- [68:00]
Dr. Ellen Grant
How are you going to kill me?
- [68:04]
Herman Hicks
Already writing yourself off?
- [68:07]
Bill
Sad.
- [68:08]
Herman Hicks
You still have 26 minutes. And you're just giving up?
- [68:14]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Consider my question part of your therapy.
- [68:22]
Jeremiah
A slight grin.
- [68:25]
Herman Hicks
Okay, I'll play.
- [68:29]
Jeremiah
Ellen leaned over, gathering her notepad and pen from the floor.
- [68:35]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Go on.
- [68:37]
Jeremiah
Herman reached into his pocket and placed a foldable barber's razor onto the coffee table. He watched Ellen and shrugged, as if awaiting her reaction. She pushed away the thought as well as the imagined sensation of having her throat slit.
- [68:58]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Not very creative, is it?
- [69:01]
Herman Hicks
Well, that's your fault. I've been uninspired. Chalk it up to the depression. Nothing brings me joy anymore. Not even lopping off toes?
- [69:16]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Toe lopping.
- [69:18]
Jeremiah
She made a face.
- [69:21]
Dr. Ellen Grant
That your thing?
- [69:24]
Herman Hicks
Wow. Kink shaming. Thought this was a safe space.
- [69:33]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Not if I'm going to die in 24 minutes. 24 minutes.
- [69:40]
Herman Hicks
Well, I do appreciate the honesty.
- [69:44]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Do you?
- [69:46]
Herman Hicks
Yes.
- [69:48]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Wonderful. So I'm to die by knife? As unimaginative as that is, does the idea of that, of ending my life bring you joy?
- [70:08]
Herman Hicks
Yes.
- [70:11]
Dr. Ellen Grant
What if I put up a fight?
- [70:14]
Herman Hicks
Even better.
- [70:17]
Dr. Ellen Grant
I will put up a fight.
- [70:21]
Jeremiah
His spine straightened and his eyes flared. He popped his lips like he'd just applied balm to them.
- [70:32]
Herman Hicks
Tell me how.
- [70:35]
Dr. Ellen Grant
You really want to know?
- [70:39]
Jeremiah
His mouth bulged with saliva.
- [70:42]
Herman Hicks
Oh, yes.
- [70:47]
Dr. Ellen Grant
I'm a blue belt in jiu jitsu, but haven't practiced in years. And against a man with a knife? I don't like my chances, but I do my best.
- [71:03]
Herman Hicks
Tell me you'd make it a challenge.
- [71:08]
Dr. Ellen Grant
I'd be harder to kill than most women in their mid-40s, but likely no match for you.
- [71:17]
Jeremiah
His smile broadened.
- [71:24]
Herman Hicks
And how long do you think you'd be able to hold out if I abandoned the knife and tried to kill you with my bare hands?
- [71:36]
Jeremiah
She knew now that she'd found a vein of access into her patient's psyche.
- [71:41]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Considering your size and fitness.
- [71:45]
Jeremiah
She tilted her head to assess this last point.
- [71:50]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Likely A few minutes longer, but you'd still prevail. I'd need to get my hands on a weapon.
- [72:00]
Jeremiah
Herman rubbed his chin greedily as he surveyed the office.
- [72:06]
Herman Hicks
What would you use?
- [72:09]
Jeremiah
Ellen eyed the lamp on a small table between their chairs.
- [72:17]
Herman Hicks
It's heavy, for sure.
- [72:18]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Sure.
- [72:20]
Herman Hicks
You might get lucky and crack my skull.
- [72:25]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Maybe. Do you like the idea of that?
- [72:30]
Jeremiah
He shifted pleasurably on his seat cushion.
- [72:35]
Herman Hicks
Yes.
- [72:38]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Herman. Does it bring you a sexual thrill? The idea of. Of murdering someone?
- [72:47]
Herman Hicks
It dies.
- [72:52]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Is. The intensity of that thrill increased at the thought of being wounded or damaged during the course of attempted murder?
- [73:02]
Herman Hicks
It does.
- [73:06]
Jeremiah
He gestured toward the fanny pack he wore crosswise over his chest.
- [73:12]
Herman Hicks
Do you mind?
- [73:15]
Jeremiah
Not knowing where things were going but feeling she had nothing to lose, Ellen nodded.
- [73:23]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Go ahead.
- [73:27]
Jeremiah
Herman unzipped the pack and dug around inside before finally producing an object she hadn't seen in years. A handheld bicycle horn.
- [73:40]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Is that the horn you use at birthdays?
- [73:44]
Herman Hicks
It is.
- [73:46]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Why have you gotten it out?
- [73:49]
Herman Hicks
Well, that's my business. Just keep talking.
- [73:56]
Dr. Ellen Grant
All right. Where were we?
- [74:01]
Herman Hicks
Me killing you.
- [74:05]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Right. Okay. Well, I'm curious. Is it more satisfying for you to succeed at killing me with great cost to your physical welfare, than to try killing me and failing? Ah, so you want to fight one that puts you in peril, but that you still win. What if it's virtually assured that you will win? Does that lessen your satisfaction? Well, we know that's the case. I can't beat you in combat. So why go through with it at all?
- [75:00]
Herman Hicks
Because that was the deal. You're depressing me now.
- [75:07]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Wasn't my intention. Just a question.
- [75:13]
Herman Hicks
Can we go back to our fight? To the death?
- [75:17]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Sure. Herman. What's your favorite part of doing someone ish?
- [75:25]
Herman Hicks
The blood. The both of us bleeding together. The commingling of it.
- [75:38]
Dr. Ellen Grant
And what if there's no blood?
- [75:42]
Herman Hicks
Then there won't be anything to paint myself with.
- [75:47]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Is that what gets you off?
- [75:49]
Bill
Off?
- [75:52]
Herman Hicks
Well, it helps.
- [75:54]
Dr. Ellen Grant
So it's better if I bleed? If I die and I don't bleed, then what?
- [76:06]
Herman Hicks
I just cut you up after. But it's boring playing in the dribble of a lifeless corpse. Fresh arterial spray is way better. Go back to that.
- [76:23]
Dr. Ellen Grant
I'm curious, Herman. Are you going to assault me sexually?
- [76:31]
Jeremiah
Herman sprang from his seat with an animal roar, his face storming red.
- [76:38]
Herman Hicks
Just what do you think I am? A monster?
- [76:43]
Jeremiah
Ellen held her hands up to placate him.
- [76:47]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Sorry.
- [76:49]
Jeremiah
Herman slumped back into the chair, looking utterly devastated. Ellen realized she'd set her plan back.
- [76:59]
Dr. Ellen Grant
I didn't know where the line was. Herman. That's my fault.
- [77:06]
Jeremiah
He grimaced.
- [77:11]
Herman Hicks
12 minutes.
- [77:13]
Jeremiah
Ellen understood Herman's pathology now, sick as it was, and his efforts to keep her on track suggested there might be a pathway out.
- [77:25]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Let's play a game. You must like games, being a clown and all.
- [77:32]
Jeremiah
A tentative honk from the horn.
- [77:36]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Pretend it's 12 minutes from now and I haven't cured you. How's that sound? So I say, sorry, Herman. I tried. I did my best. What will you do? What's your first move?
- [77:59]
Herman Hicks
I'll stand up and say something than pity. Funny, even.
- [78:05]
Dr. Ellen Grant
What? What will you say? Tell me. I want to hear it.
- [78:16]
Jeremiah
Herman switched the rubber ball of the horn from hand to hand, sweaty from his palms.
- [78:23]
Herman Hicks
I'll say. I'll say.
- [78:28]
Dr. Ellen Grant
How about hope you're down to clown?
- [78:33]
Chet
That sounds good.
- [78:36]
Herman Hicks
That's real good.
- [78:40]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Your turn. What will you do next? Tell me how you attack me? How we struggle.
- [78:52]
Herman Hicks
I'll throw the knife across the room. H.
- [78:58]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Something for me to try and get to. What next, Herman?
- [79:06]
Herman Hicks
I'll leap at you, tackle you to the floor, harder than you've ever been hit. The shock of it will stun you for a few moments. Normally, I'd hit you in the face and throat while you were disoriented. But I think today I'll let you regain your bearings. That way, you're all there when I smash you.
- [79:33]
Dr. Ellen Grant
So it's to be a pummeling?
- [79:37]
Jeremiah
Wide smile.
- [79:40]
Herman Hicks
I think so, yes. A pummeling, yes.
- [79:49]
Dr. Ellen Grant
If you've already got me pinned, then it should be a quick fight. How will you finish me? Will it be strangulation?
- [80:04]
Herman Hicks
Oh, yes. But not immediately. I think I'll let you up to give you hope. Maybe even a head start toward the door.
- [80:20]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Hmm. You really like to play with your food, don't you? So you let me up. Then what?
- [80:33]
Herman Hicks
You go for the door.
- [80:34]
Bill
Of course.
- [80:36]
Herman Hicks
Even though you know I'm going to get you. And I do. I slam you into the door very, very hard. You go silly for a moment.
- [80:51]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Fitting, considering your location.
- [80:57]
Jeremiah
Herman chuckled.
- [81:01]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Don't spoil the mood, Herman. What do you do to me next? I imagine I'm struggling to stay conscious at this point.
- [81:11]
Herman Hicks
I drag you across the room and lay you down within reach of the.
- [81:16]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Knife, giving me hope again. I get the feeling you sort of want me to get that blade. And maybe I do. And cut you. I definitely cut you deep. Right across your chest. What next, Herman? What makes you excited? You want to prolong it, don't you? Tell me.
- [82:02]
Jeremiah
Herman adjusted his pants.
- [82:07]
Herman Hicks
I ad Lib for a bit. Break some of your bones. Get a little sloppy.
- [82:17]
Dr. Ellen Grant
This arouses you. Do you want me to keep going?
- [82:27]
Bill
Faster.
- [82:31]
Dr. Ellen Grant
What next, Herman?
- [82:33]
Herman Hicks
I cut you.
- [82:38]
Dr. Ellen Grant
So you can paint yourself in my blood? Of course. I take it you would have your clothes off by now. You're sick, little Herman.
- [82:52]
Herman Hicks
It's true.
- [82:57]
Dr. Ellen Grant
So you're slathered in my blood. It mixes together with the blood from the gash in your chest.
- [83:07]
Bill
Yes.
- [83:10]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Am I still conscious because you want me to see the spectacle you've created? You get off on it, then What? I'm bleeding profusely now. I mean, the clock is ticking, right? Herman? How long does it take a person to bleed out?
- [83:45]
Jeremiah
His eyes were shut and he'd thrown his head back.
- [83:50]
Herman Hicks
A minute, maybe less. Depends on the blood vessel, the size of the gash.
- [84:01]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Then we only have a minute. Herman, quickly. What happens next?
- [84:08]
Herman Hicks
I get down on my knees, I smack you until you make eye contact?
- [84:14]
Dr. Ellen Grant
You need that. You need eye contact to finish, don't you? Look at me, Herman.
- [84:25]
Jeremiah
His chest heaved.
- [84:28]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Look at me.
- [84:30]
Jeremiah
He opened his eyes, wide and deranged. Pupils dilated.
- [84:36]
Dr. Ellen Grant
We're making eye contact, Herman. I'm bleeding out. I'm dying. Finish me. How do you finish me?
- [84:47]
Herman Hicks
My hands around your throat. There's blood everywhere. Our bodies are 12 organs together. I squeeze and your eyes bulge. You piss yourself. It's spectacular.
- [85:09]
Dr. Ellen Grant
I'm dying, Herman. I'm choking. I can't breathe. Piss everywhere. My heart is slowing.
- [85:18]
Jeremiah
Look at me, Herman. Refo focused, his fingers working the horn faster and faster.
- [85:27]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Good. Look into my eyes. 10 seconds until I'm dead. Feel my heart.
- [85:36]
Chet
Feel it?
- [85:38]
Herman Hicks
It's barely beaten. Your blood is all over me.
- [85:46]
Jeremiah
The horn honked and nearly continuous sound.
- [85:51]
Dr. Ellen Grant
8.
- [85:52]
Chet
7.
- [85:53]
Dr. Ellen Grant
6. 5.
- [86:04]
Jeremiah
Herman tossed his head back, shrieking as he writhed and twisted in ecstasy.
- [86:11]
Dr. Ellen Grant
Four. Three.
- [86:15]
Chet
Yes.
- [86:23]
Jeremiah
Herman convulsed and shuddered, Resting his head on the back of the chair. He worked to catch his breath. Finally, he exhaled and rolled his gaze toward Ellen, his eyes clear and calm. She looked to the clock.
- [86:45]
Dr. Ellen Grant
I'm dead. And it's only 3:52.
- [86:50]
Jeremiah
Herman adjusted himself upright in the chair and swayed his neck side to side.
- [86:57]
Dr. Ellen Grant
What now?
- [87:01]
Jeremiah
Herman sniffed and cleared his throat, then unzipped the fanny pack to dig around. Ellen's eyes ran across the razor, still sitting on the coffee table, then back to Herman. He stood, making her push her back into the cushion. He stepped close and leaned over, his breath smelling of faygo soda. With a showman's flourish, he ran his hand alongside her ear then magically presented a red ball of foam.
- [87:35]
Herman Hicks
And what do we have here?
- [87:39]
Jeremiah
He pinched the ball and placed it onto his nose, then gave it a double squeeze just as the horn sounded from behind his back.
- [87:49]
Herman Hicks
I believed in you, Doc.
- [87:53]
Jeremiah
He smiled and raised his eyebrows clown high.
- [88:01]
Herman Hicks
You just needed to believe in yourself.
- [88:06]
Jeremiah
She'd been holding her breath and finally released it. Her adrenaline crashed. Herman recovered the razor and placed it into his fanny pack.
- [88:21]
Herman Hicks
I feel like me again. Thanks, Doc.
- [88:28]
Jeremiah
He mimed a sneeze and a long string of blue rubber appeared to unravel from his nostril. A balloon, Ellen realized. Giving it a stretch, he inflated it with one breath, deftly twisted it into a flower, and handed it over. Then he left through the door just as the clock's minute hand clicked to 55. After, Ellen, not sure yet if she believed he was really going to leave, sat like a statue in her seat with the balloon flower until she heard the bicycle horn out on the street. She dashed to the window and pulled apart the blinds. Herman had his head inside the window of the smallest car she'd ever seen. He gesticulated wildly, then stepped back as another man got out, followed by another and another. The back door opened and a man got out, and after him, two more. The front door flew wide and at least five others poured out onto the sidewalk. Arms triumphant, Herman made some sort of proclamation. His fellow clowns hopped with joy and embraced him in turn. Then they wedged themselves back into the vehicle. Herman pushed in last and slammed the door.
- [90:07]
Dr. Ellen Grant
It.
- [90:47]
Chet
As your time with us has come to an end and you can now finally escape these sleepless tales, we thank you for joining us here at the no Sleep Podcast for our Sleepless Decompositions. Join us next week for the premiere of season 23 here at the no Sleep Podcast. The no Sleep Podcast is presented by Creative Reason Media. The musical score was composed by Brandon Boone. Our production team is Phil Mikulski, Jeff Claire Clement, Jesse Cornett, and Claudius Moore. Our editorial team is Jessica McAvoy, Ashley McAnally, Ollie A. White, and Kristen Cimido. I'm your host and executive producer, David Cummings. Please visit thenosleeppodcast.com for show notes and more details about the people who bring you this show, along with hundreds of hours of audio horror stories in our archives. On behalf of everyone at the no Sleep Podcast, we thank you for listening and for supporting our dark tales. This audio program is copyright 2025 by Creative Reason Media, Inc. All rights reserved. The copyrights for each story are held by the respective authors. No duplication or reproduction of this audio program is permitted without the written consent of Creative Reason Media, Inc.
- [93:00]
Jeremiah
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- [93:55]
David Cummings
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Bill
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- [94:16]
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